


𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 ➵ 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚌

by rnythingale



Series: 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒 [1]
Category: Real Person Fiction, celebrity - Fandom, youtube - Fandom, youtuber
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, One-Shots, Real Life Person - Freeform, Second Fan-fiction, celebrity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-14 21:58:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18485194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rnythingale/pseuds/rnythingale
Summary: ❝ celeвrιтιeѕ' ғιcтιтιoυѕ lιveѕ ιɴ тнe нαɴdѕ oғ αɴ υɴтrυѕтworтнy wrιтer ❞❝ í вríng α lєmσn єvєrчwhєrє 'cαuѕє í'm thαt ѕσur ❞playlιѕт





	1. tαвlє σf cσntєntѕ

— oɴe-ѕнoтѕ αre cαтeɢorιѕed αlpнαвeтιcαlly —

 

* * *

вeɴedιcт cυмвerвαтcн  
1\. [❝ ɴoт wнo we υѕed тo вe ❞](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18485194/chapters/43800784)

cαmєrσn mσnαghαn  
1\. [❝ ι'м goιng тo love yoυ lιĸe ι'м goιng тo loѕe yoυ ❞](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18485194/chapters/43994938)

jαмeѕ тυrɴer  
1\. [❝ ѕтαɴd вy мe ❞](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18485194/chapters/43803526)

 

 

 

* * *

 


	2. 1 : ❝ nσt whσ wє uѕєd tσ вє ❞ || вєnєdíct cumвєrвαtch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> ┌────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┐
> 
> αcтor / α̶c̶т̶r̶e̶ѕ̶ѕ̶:  
> Benedict Cumberbatch  
>   
> ѕυммαry:  
> ↣ Benedict moves into his old flat that used to be his haven before being catapulted into fame,  
> and as he unravels his items, he realises that some memories seem to not fade away like he had thought it would be.
> 
> └────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┘  
>   
>   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> ғollow мy ѕocιαl мedιαѕ!  
>   
> [ιɴѕтαɢrαм](https://www.instagram.com/rnythingale/)  
> [тwιттer](https://twitter.com/rnythingale)  
> [αѕĸ.ғм ](https://ask.fm/rnythingale)  
> [wαттpαd](https://www.wattpad.com/user/rnythingale)  
> [тυмвlr](http://rnythingale.tumblr.com)

 

  


* * *

His physicality emits fatigue the moment he crashes his bottom into the leather of his leather couch, creating a muffled ‘thump!’ in the process. Benedict relaxes his aching neck and shuts his eyes once his stare lingers at the sight of his ceiling. There’s nothing more soothing than to have a cuppa with a couple of biscuits, he thinks. 

There are more things to unpack, and thank God it’s just four or five boxes for this small flat — it’s his old one during his time before Sherlock ensured his fame and fortune in this world. Now, he’s dominating the world with Doctor Strange, a character part of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

In the back of his head, he could sense that something’s off about his whole demeanour. Nothing hostile, just... different. He splits one eye open at the sudden realisation and sits up, looking around to see if anything was to look at him, maybe through the window? Nonetheless, he can’t seem to relax anymore so he stands up and stretches his long legs from the whole day of back and fro walking, into the bedroom where his things are left to unravel.

‘CLOTHES’ is written on a box, with his handwriting, where it idly sits on his bed, and he uses a box cutter to cut through the tape and reveal the casual clothes he has neatly packed in that small box. Surely, he begins to tuck them into the drawers of his closet, and he notices a figure in the corner of his eyes. He halts between the closet and his bed, studying further to comprehend.

“Long time, no see, Ben,” She smiles, waving her slender fingers before stuffing them into her jacket. “How long has it been? Four, five years? Have you forgotten about me when Hollywood took notice of you?” She grins, shaking her head. Benedict, on the other hand, still stands there. “I didn’t know you’d be back.” 

“I just... wanted to escape everything, that’s all,” He hesitantly arranges his clothing into the drawer, not wanting to make any eye contact with her. ‘What is she doing here?’ He thinks. Benedict clears his throat. ‘So, how are you, [Y/N]?”

“So-so,” [Y/N] rolls her shoulders to further emphasise her feelings in her response. She kicks the air off the ground and takes a seat on the bed. “By the way, don’t open the windows — the whole place is freezing!” She exclaims, laughing, while Benedict finds nothing of that amusing nor funny. Noting the lack of amusement from Benedict, [Y/N], chuckles off the awkwardness. “Are you that surprised to see me, Ben, that I’ve knocked the wind out of your chest and steal the words from your mind?”

Benedict halts, his fingers clenching the drawer. “No, that’s not it, [Y/N]...” He murmurs only to her ears. She turns to him, raising an eyebrow. “I just find it strange that you’re here, out of nowhere, to be in this flat without making a sound like you always did,” He sighs.

“Well, you’ve also said that I’m silent like a mouse,” [Y/N] stands up and approaches Benedict, her hands unkept from her pockets. “Ben, is there a problem? You look flushed — are you sick? I’ll get you a glass of water!”

“No!” Benedict reaches for [Y/N]’s wrist to stop her from overreacting this whole situation, but to his dismay, a freezing sensation travels his nerves and tingles pulsate up and down his spine. He couldn’t hold her hands or anything of her. [Y/N] looks down, shaking her head. “I... I thought you didn’t know,”

“Ms. Carmichael called me last year,” Benedict’s fingers tremble horribly; his eyes sting terribly as if acidic tortures had been poured into them. “Don’t you remember, [Y/N]?” Their eyes locked — his heterochromatic ones and the pale, empty orbs — for a moment of searching for an answer. Benedict clenches his fingers. “You... didn’t survive your birth,”

Her eyes show no signs of painful realisation, as if she’s known it for many times. Her head, however, falls to the point that her chin touches her chest, and she nods a little. Benedict raises his hands subconsciously to comfort her by grabbing her shoulders and pull her into a hug, but the phantom state of [Y/N] prevents him from doing so. 

“You can’t imagine the many times I hear a baby cry through these horrific hallways,” [Y/N] stutters, in the urge of bursting into emotional distress. She sits down on the edge of the bed. “She always cries, and cry, and cry, and it’s non-stop, Ben!” The heels of her hands bury into her eye sockets, and she, then, begins to weep like a weeping angel. “It’s so lonely here... waiting... for somebody to take notice of me...”

 [Y/N] looks up with a pair of hollow yet sad eyes. “For you.”

Benedict sighs, sitting down beside of her, holding her hand if he could. He just sits there. “How is she, [Y/N]?” They look once more. She knows who he is talking about, as she wipes her eyes. “How is our baby girl?” 

“The both of us are sad that she couldn’t grip the chance of meeting her wonderful father, but... she’s fine, Ben,” She smiles sadly. “She’s beautiful, Ben, if only you could see her — she has your eyes; my goodness, Ben, she has your beautiful eyes,”

Benedict smiles, realising that a tear rolls down her cheek.

“I wish I can do something for you, [Y/N]...” Benedict shakes his head, defeated.

“Yes, you can,” [Y/N] nods.

“What is it?”

“Wake up,”

Benedict’s eyebrows scrunch. “What?”

“Wake up,”

A cold pang collides into his chest and he jerks awake from the couch, taking notice of the nighttime that falls into his sight. The television built into the wall plays movies he had fallen asleep into. His eyes are swollen from the tears produced, and his cheeks are puffy with weeping stains.

He looks around at his empty flat, wanting to see signs that [Y/N] is there, like in his dream. Alas, her presence didn’t strike a chance and he would cry if he could, but he sits in the saddest position he could, his eyes maintained on a framed portrait of him hugging a girl from behind, their smiles vibrating through the warmth of the picture.


	3. ❝ ѕтαɴd вy мe ❞ || jαмeѕ тυrɴer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> ┌────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┐
> 
> yoυтυвer:  
> James Turner
> 
> ѕυммαry:  
> ↣ As a musician YouTuber, you have been blessed to perform at your best friend's wedding, but what she didn't tell you was that she had invited one of her other best friends to the wedding, and this time, your mutual friend had decided to hook the both of you up. 
> 
> └────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┘
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> ғollow мy ѕocιαl мedιαѕ!  
>   
> [ιɴѕтαɢrαм](https://www.instagram.com/rnythingale/)  
> [тwιттer](https://twitter.com/rnythingale)  
> [αѕĸ.ғм ](https://ask.fm/rnythingale)  
> [wαттpαd](https://www.wattpad.com/user/rnythingale)  
> [тυмвlr](http://rnythingale.tumblr.com)

* * *

There are two things beautiful in life: birth and marriages. For this occasion, it’s nice to know that two people are committed to devoting their lives to spend it with each other, and your best friend, Ivy, had decided to do so with her best friend, Eddie. The moment you found out that they were tying the knot, you couldn’t help but break the most expensive champagne you have and celebrate.

Now that the days had been counted, and their marriage had been verified in the eyes of God, their reception rolls in. The theme for this formal party is a garden one, yet it’s being held at night and to match this, your [outfit](https://shoplook.io/outfit-preview/589222) couldn’t be any more perfect — a black turtleneck, an asymmetrical navy blue skirt that goes with a pair of black chunky boots. Along with it are a pair of golden crescent earrings and a golden locket. Your friend, Shane, had one your [h/c] hair into a Dutch braid for a neat appearance.

Not only are you a guest to the party, but you’re also one of the performers that would perform a few cover songs for the wedded couple and guests to dance to. As you are at the backstage with the wedding band for a last-minute discussion of the performance, your shoulder’s been tapped from behind and you turn around, seeing your good friend, Andrya, who smiles brightly.

“[Y/N], how’s prep going?” She hooks her arm with yours, tugging slightly as a gesture for the both of you to walk to the reception area and have a walk with her. “I can tell that you’ve been practising hard for this wedding, huh?”

“Gotta make my performance extra special for Ivy!” You exclaim as you grab a glass of champagne to soothe the nervousness dwelling in your nerves. However many times you’ve performed in front of the camera, it’s nothing like performing in front of a crowd. A camera is always you, all alone, while people are where they would judge, and this is, too, a special day for someone. “You came alone today?” You ask, curious.

“And you too?” Andrya mocks, smirking. “I’ve got a plus-one, and I’d like to introduce you to him!” Her hand waves at an opposite direction and you look, seeing a well-cladded man approach you two. His brown hair had been styled into a natural slick back. He seems familiar from afar, but too much when he gets near. Your feet turn into stone. “[Y/N], I’d like to introduce you to James Turner!”

“I-I know you,” You stutter, giggling nervously and stick out one hand. “It’s nice you to meet, Turner James,” Your mouth fumbles words without your knowledge as your mind becomes momentarily blank. Realising what you’ve said, you accidentally squeeze his hand, saying: “It’s nice to meet you, James Turner!”

James makes a hearty laugh at your mix-up. “It’s nice you to meet, [F/N] [L/N]! I love your content, especially your covers for jazz music. I assume you’re going to be performing for the wedding?”

You nod. “I’m best friends with the bride, what about you?”

“Ditto,” He smiles, grabbing a glass of champagne for himself. “How come she didn’t mention that she was best friends with a pretty lady?” James realises what he had said, and scratches his head awkwardly while Andrya chuckles mischievously as if she’s known this would come. “I didn’t mean to sound so straightforward, sorry!”

“It’s alright,” You smile. “She even didn’t mention about being best friends with a really handsome guy!”

At this point, both of you blush, and James blushes, even more, hinted by hiding it behind his glass as sipping the bubbly content. Andrya grips your shoulder, winking before walking away — she had set the two of you up, that’s for sure. Both of you watch as Andrya waltz away to the other guests just for friendly manners, then looking at each other with genuine smiles.

“I watch your videos, they’re really fun and funny,” You smile, swaying your hips subtly at the light music playing from the band. “I’ve always thought the Sims games were stressful, especially having to care for their needs, but watching you play it, it’s relaxing!”

“Thank you,” James laughs. “Y’know, we should collaborate one day! I could build a house for your sims, and you can take care of them — guaranteed that I’d help you through the process, of course,”

“Yes, we should,” You nod, smiling. “I’ve always thought of posting videos of me playing games on my channel, and to know that I’d be collaborating with you is exciting!” Both of you clink your glasses and sip once more. Ivy’s mother, in the corner of your eyes, waves for you to attend to the stage. “Oh, I should probably be going! I need to get on stage,”

You bid farewell to James before going up the stage, getting a good panoramic view of the room. Ivy’s mother, the mistress of the ceremony, introduces you to the crowd and you sit on the stool by the band that’s going to play with you. Your father, who is a cameraman, is in front of the stage, taking good angles for your performance.

You clear your throat as people take their seats at their tables. “Good evening everyone, I would like to say thank you to the couple for giving me this opportunity to perform, and also to congratulate them for the biggest day of their lives,” Everyone erupts into cheers, and the couple stands in the middle of the dance floor with a tearful smile. “I’d like to perform a classic for you two — I hope you guys like it,”

Turning over your shoulder, you nod to the band and tapping on your wooden stage to the count of three, the piano begins, followed by the guitar. You shut your eyes. “When the night has come, and the land is dark, and the moon is the only light we’ll see, no I won’t be afraid, no I won’t be afraid, just as long as you stand, stand by me,”

The wedded couple joins themselves to each other and their loving eyes glued. Slowly into the song, other young couples, old, too, would join them at the dance floor, leaving some of the single ones at their tables. In the middle of the melody, you realise that James is sitting at his table while listening to a friend, yet his eyes are at yours, and the both of you realise at that moment in time, that a smile would do.

A smile to know that both of you would fall for each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.wattpad.com/story/191356754-insomnia-%E2%86%92-james-turner-yt-simsupply)


	4. ❝ ι'м goιng тo love yoυ lιĸe ι'м goιng тo loѕe yoυ ❞ || cαmєrσn mσnαghαn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> ┌────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┐
> 
> αcтor / α̶c̶т̶r̶e̶ѕ̶ѕ̶:  
> Cameron Monaghan  
>   
> ѕυммαry:  
> ↣ Cameron is the beacon of appreciation to people, especially to his girlfriend who has terrible issues with her self-esteem.  
> └────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┘  
>   
>   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> ғollow мy ѕocιαl мedιαѕ!  
>   
> [ιɴѕтαɢrαм](https://www.instagram.com/rnythingale/)  
> [тwιттer](https://twitter.com/rnythingale)  
> [αѕĸ.ғм ](https://ask.fm/rnythingale)  
> [wαттpαd](https://www.wattpad.com/user/rnythingale)  
> [тυмвlr](http://rnythingale.tumblr.com)

* * *

The caramel taste swimming on the bud of the sweetness of his tongue electrifies his senses, and Cameron always favoured the feeling that he has extra shots of caffeine in his system. Now that he finally finished his filming at… ‘6.30 am’ — he checked — he could finally head to the hotel and crash for the rest of the day until a few days roll in for another filming for the show.

He bids farewell to the filming crew and his cast colleagues, or his ‘family’ as he’d refer every day, before grabbing an Uber back to the hotel he’s paid for the next few months. He begins to text his significant other, [Y/N], to inform her that he’d be back in a few minutes, but no reply comes from her side, and that doesn’t surprise him considering that it’s early day for her to be up, and he smiles at the thought of her asleep. He tucks his phone into his pocket.

Cameron couldn’t begin which reason he loves [Y/N] a lot. Not that he doesn’t have any, he has _many_. A few, to name, would be [Y/N] didn’t leave him at times where their relationship severely has been tested, and that she would forgive him when he’s at fault, and when she too; second, he adores how she respects his boundaries and that she dares to cross some when she knows it’s the right time, so it wouldn’t irritate him in any way. Lastly, out of the countless, she sees the very best of him, and he couldn’t move front without her support.

His smile didn’t do its job to fade away when he wanted to — thinking about [Y/N] has his heart stopping for numerous times, and his smile aching his freckled cheeks. Sometimes when he’s filming and the thought of his girlfriend comes out of nowhere, he’d have to pause and apologise to the director and redo the take. Regardless, his mind is ninety-percent [Y/N].

The cab stops in front of the doors of the hotel. He thanks the driver before exiting and jogging into the lobby of the building. He flashes his hotel room card onto the reader in the elevator and presses the desired number of the floor, and the door closes in front of him. The elevator’s lounge music accompanies his silence in the vehicle until it stops and he exists quickly just for being impatient to see the person he loves.

“[Y/N], I’m back!” He chimes, pushing the door using his shoulder and sees darkness, except for a beacon of light coming from the door, left ajar, of their bedroom. Cameron closes the front door to their hotel room, smiles and kicking his shoes off and enters the bedroom to find some items in a disarray position, leaving his mind in a state of panic and worry. The chair to the desk has been flipped onto its back; his recognisable tops and bottoms are thrown everywhere on the floor, and the bed looks like a mess. “[Y/N]…?”

He climbs slowly into the bed and reaches for the lump and pries, little by little, the comforter below. A slumbering perfection didn’t wake up from his worried call and he sighs in relief, running a finger through her hair, tucking the strand behind her ear. That manages to wake her up.

“Cameron…?” She whispers, blinking her tired eyes at him and she almost shrieks, realising that her boyfriend has returned. She realises the ‘sin’ she’s committed. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry about your things, I just…” [Y/N]’s breathing becomes rapid, and Cameron places a hand against her shoulder to calm her down.

[Y/N] has one thing that she fears in her life: herself. Aside from her clinical depression, she despises how she looks like because she doesn’t have a model body. The rolls of her stomach and belly, her thighs and her back — it discourages her to see herself as often as she used to when she was young. Cameron has been the voice of appreciation of her beauty, but most of the time, she’s keen to not believe what he says, instead, of herself.

Having Cameron find her in a state of wearing his clothes shocks her, because of her shape and size, it could easily ruin his outfit, but she’s baffled now that he’s not angry or anything.

“Aren’t you going to say anything…?” [Y/N] whimpers, playing with the edge of his hooded sweater.

“That you’re beautiful?” Cameron smiles, kissing his girlfriend lovingly. “’Cause you are, babe. Don’t worry about my clothes, you can wear as many as you want, as long as you do one thing for me,”

“What is it?”

“Don’t stop wearing them,” He instantly wraps an arm around his chubby girlfriend and pulls her into a tight embrace, to which she returns the gesture with a huge smile on her face. “You should go back to sleep, it _is_ seven in the morning. C’mon, I’ll cuddle with you ‘till you sleep,”


End file.
